


So Don’t Make Me Say It, It Would Burst the Bubble, Break the Charm.

by MOGICORE



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Song Mingi, Fairy Song Mingi, I have no idea, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Seonghwa and Mingi in dresses, Soft Park Seonghwa, Soft Song Mingi, Top Park Seonghwa, Witch Park Seonghwa, also, its so soft i nearly vomited, maybe this is cottagecore, my sincere apologies if you read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:01:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28207995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MOGICORE/pseuds/MOGICORE
Summary: Mingi whined high and loud around his fingers, and squeezed the witch’s wrist tighter. Finally, he let Seonghwa’s fingers go, and rubbed at his eyes with his fists. “Tell me. If you trust me, tell me, M-Mars,” He blubbered. “Please?”“My name is Seonghwa,” He whispered, “Say my name, darling.”
Relationships: Park Seonghwa/Song Mingi
Comments: 21
Kudos: 96





	So Don’t Make Me Say It, It Would Burst the Bubble, Break the Charm.

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically a sequel to a thing I haven't finished writing yet but since I finished this first- here you go. Also, you can really tell that I'm a simp for soft Minhwa dynamics,,

It was early in the morning, before the sun had even the chance to rise, when Mingi woke to soft fingers prodding at his skin.

He had fallen asleep with San and Wooyoung; the younger of the two laying behind him with arm slung over his thin waist, and the older in front, wrapped around him like a koala so he could sleep well.

“Wh—?” Mingi blinked his eyes open, and squinted against the dim lighting to find Seonghwa leaning over them, and tapping him on the arm. “Mars?”

Seonghwa shushed him with a grin, a pretty finger pressed to his lips. His eyes were twinkling, big and soft and so lovely. “Good morning, little fairy,” He said, only to pause when San grumbled, and then purred, nose nuzzling into Mingi’s chest. “Get dressed and meet me on the boat. We’re going somewhere. Just you and I.”

And with that, the witch pressed a kiss to each of their foreheads and disappeared.

The thought of having Seonghwa to himself was enough to rouse the drowsy fairy from his slumber.

Special time with Seonghwa, for any of them but Hongjoong, was something rare in their coven — though Mingi wasn’t quite sure if he was a part of that ‘their’. It was a gift, but usually a reward; “You can have special time with me,” always being the witch’s promise when asking a favour of particularly large measure.

Mingi could not think of anything he had done to deserve it. But he also did not care enough to dwell because he had it, and he’d been wanting it for so long.

The time they spent with the witch differed for each of them, and as something of an unspoken rule, no one divulged what they did during their time. He supposed that was part of what made it special.

After he’d detangled himself from his other lovers, who quickly found each other’s bodies with his absence, and he’d dressed, he left the quiet, little house. Yeosang and Yunho were sleeping on the veranda, curled around each other on the lavender daybed. Hongjoong was somewhere on the upper floor, brooding, perhaps, or doing whatever it was that vampires did. They weren’t particularly close yet, but Mingi was grateful at the very least that the leader had allowed his presence.

It was cool, but not chilly, and the air was crisp and clean. Mingi was careful not to let his dress drag in the freshly dewed grass, all the while trembling with excitement.

“Come,” Seonghwa beckoned him when he neared the lake, hands held out for him. “I want to see you. You look pretty.” 

The fairy’s cheeks flushed as he took the witch’s hands and stepped into the boat, only slightly afraid of its uneasy rocking. He sat across from him, and their knees knocked together awkwardly. It was a bit of a tight squeeze. Mingi couldn’t help but wanting to die, or at least curl up into something smaller than himself. “Sorry...”

“You’re not too big, princess,” Seonghwa said, as if reading his mind. The witch had always been funny like that; somehow, he always knew what Mingi was thinking, or how he was feeling. It made it easy, rather than uncomfortable in the way one might be when they’re unable to hide such things. Words were hard sometimes, but he never had to worry about that with him.

“Okay. Sorry, Mars,” He whispered, and to distract himself from that thought, “Do I look pretty?” He’d worn his new dress, a gift (a peace offering, really), from Yeosang. The fabric was soft and smooth on his skin, and it was the soft shade of peach he’d often seen painted across the apples of Yunho’s cheeks when he woke up in the morning, or got embarrassed when Wooyoung teased him. And the skirt was big enough, with plenty of layers, that it made him feel dainty and, sillily enough, tiny.

Seonghwa made no effort to be discreet. He leaned back, and with a smirk that almost rivalled San in its sleaziness, — which wasn’t to say that San was sleazy, per say, just that he was inexplicably horny and overwhelmingly suggestive — he said, “I could eat you right up... You look delicious.” His eyes roamed hungrily, drinking in the sheer material stretched over his bust and left the buds of his nipples on display. Mingi preened his skirt, patting down and fluffing the puffy layers, so very nervous and so very aware of the intensity of the gaze scanning him.

The witch reached for him and ran his fingers down the sleeves of his dress, and then his arms, in a way that tickled and made him want to squirm away and beg for more all at once, “You are so pretty, little fairy.”

“T-thank you,” Mingi breathed, quivering only because he felt too full of love and joy, and his body could not contain it.

He leaned forward, his lips were soft and patient, and it was not a true kiss, because it was only lips and no tongue, but Mingi loved it all the same. And when Seonghwa nuzzled their noses together as he pulled away, Mingi’s insides were buzzing.

The water rippled and sloshed calmly as Seonghwa rowed down the bayou. Mingi leaned over the edge of the boat, head resting on one arm, and ran his fingers along the carved in initials of each coven member. ‘HJ’, ‘SH’, ‘YH’, ‘YS’, ‘S’, ‘WY’. And the newest addition, in his messy scrawl, ‘MG’.

He dipped his fingers in the water, and shivered at the chilly temperature. The sun warmed his skin as it rose.

Seonghwa smiled at him, eyes always fond and full of love, perhaps admiration, too. Sometimes, this look scared him. But now, it made him sigh and turn and lay his head in the witch’s lap, and whisper, “Tell me you love me.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Please?”

The witch’s laugh was lovely, and he paused in rowing to nuzzle his nose against the fairy’s cheek. His skin was warm, and he pressed his lips over the little mole beneath his eye. “My precious little fairy,” He murmured, the vibrations ticking the fairy’s cheek, “I love you, Mingi.”

Satisfied, the fairy poked his tongue out and lapped at the corner of Seonghwa’s lips like Wooyoung did. He did not return the words, too frightened of ruining what they’d so carefully built, but he hoped that Seonghwa knew anyhow. He knew that he did.

It was just as the sun was beginning to paint the sky in pinks and oranges, and the clouds had been stretched thin, like a blanket, that they arrived at their destination; a vast meadow that drowned them in a sea of flowers every colour of the rainbow, and filled each of their senses in a wonderfully overwhelming way. It almost reminded him of home, but better, because Seonghwa was here and his mother wasn’t.

They took their time, meandering, only because Mingi couldn’t help but stop and admire every flower that caught his attention, and run his fingers over the silky petals, and whisper to them. Seonghwa hadn’t the heart to hurry him about.

“Mars, thank you for bringing me here!” Mingi sidled up to Seonghwa’s side, and Seonghwa looked upon him with a fondness he knew frightened the fairy at times. He was glowing, sun-kissed skin luminous under the glow of the steady rising sun, and suddenly he wished he’d borrowed Wooyoung’s camera. Mingi smiled freely, open and unafraid, in a way he never did around the others without covering his mouth. Seonghwa tapped his crooked tooth with one finger, and Mingi licked him with a giggle.

“Silly boy.” Seonghwa wrapped his free arm around Mingi’s waist and guided him up the hill, keeping a firm grip to stop the fairy from running off again. “I’m glad you like it.”

Once at the top, Mingi waited patiently, twirling in place to watch his dress sway, while Seonghwa laid out the picnic blanket. “I made all your favourites.”

“You’re the best,” Mingi said earnestly. The witch, much like Hongjoong would have, waved a hand dismissively as if to say ‘it’s nothing’, and smiled. Mingi sat down on the floral-printed fabric and spread out, closing his eyes against the sun. “Mars?”

“Hm?”

He did not respond right away, instead opting to listen to the sounds of glass milk bottles clinking together, and dishes and cutlery being down on the blanket. Seonghwa, as always, waited, and never paused in laying out the array of food he’d brought. Doing so would have pressured the fairy, he knew.

“I thought you were perfect when we first met,” Mingi said finally, rolling onto his side and sitting up. He leaned on one hand, legs curled to his side and held his mouth open when Seonghwa went to bite into a strawberry.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, but surrendered, and fed him the dewy strawberry. It was firm, and sweet, and redder than his hair had been when they first encountered one another. Now he was blond, though the colour was nowhere near as light as Seonghwa’s had been then — now it was a dark grey. “And what do you think of me now, hm?”

A small shrug. He chewed slowly, eyes shutting as he savoured the rich, sweet flavour of the berry. Juice dribbled down the corner of his lips, and he opened his mouth for another. Seonghwa obliged, head tilted to rest against his shoulder. He had that look in his eyes again.

“Perfect. I still think you’re perfect.”

Seonghwa grinned and he looked shy for a moment, averting his gaze, and finding interest in the soft, sticky honey cakes he knew Mingi adored. “Eat,” He said, “I like seeing you eat well.”

And because Mingi always listened well (most of the time, anyway), he shifted, tucking his legs beneath his bottom, and ate two of the small cakes to appease the witch.

“What did you think of me when we first met?” They had not often spoken about that day. For Mingi, thinking about it had often confused him. It was not until later, recently, that he thought of it differently, and had begun to understand the witch’s purposeful vagueness, and that all this was meant to be in the grand scheme of things.

He had thought Seonghwa was perfect, breathtaking, a human worthy of being a fairy. Perhaps he had been a bit jealous too, for he was much prettier than he was. It wasn’t like that now, though. Seonghwa had a way of making him see things in a nicer, less self-deprecative light. Mingi was perfect in a different sort of way.

The witch hummed, an amused smile finding its way to his lips. He sighed and looked off into the distance wistfully, eyes sparkling like they often did when he was full of joy. “I...” He hummed, opening a bottle of milk, still cold and dripping condensation, and lifted it to his lips to take a sip. “I thought you were scary.” 

Mingi choked. “Scary?” It was a silly thought, really. When they’d met, he’d been barefoot and might as well have been naked his shorts were so short. He’d sat and had pink lemonade and cried too, while Seonghwa sat prim and perfect as ever, reading him like a children’s book with size 24 print. If anything, he’d been the scary one.

“Mm, He nodded and licked his lips, “You were different from the others. When I first met Hongjoong, it was my first encounter with anything not human. I thought, ‘Ah, who is this guy?’, because he was just... so different from what I expected. I was just in awe when I met Yunho, so I don’t think I thought much. I thought Yeosang was very handsome, if not a bit mischievous, that’s something you two have in common - though he’s a bit sneakier than you are about it.”

“Mars,” Mingi whined, cheeks puffed out with the fluffy honey cake he was tearing into. Yeosang had made it; recently, the pixie found that he was much better at baking than cooking (a relief because now he wasn’t in the kitchen beating eggs for an hour).

“But did I lie?” Seonghwa dipped his finger into the tub of whipped cream and tapped him on the nose. Mingi stuck his tongue out at him, and scooped up the cream with the last bite of his cake. “San was different when we first met. I thought he was very shy, and reserved; I thought he’d never come out of his shell. Wooyoung was... quite respectful, which in retrospect should have been a warning.”

The fairy laughed and lifted a hand to hide his grin. Wooyoung was a bit of a demon now, constantly teasing Seonghwa and keeping the poor man on his toes. San was much the same; the two were very much alike, and couldn’t be without one another.

“But why’d you think I was scary?” He whined, stealing the bottle of milk from the witch. His whiny mood was cut short at the taste of the creamy liquid sweetened by honey, and he huffed, and turned away to hide his delight.

Seonghwa tutted at him. “Yah, you big baby. I didn’t know you were a fairy at first. I thought you were a dark elf,” He explained through laughter, “You looked frightening, at least until I realized you were a fairy, and that you were just a little, soft baby trying to act all big and tough.”

“Mmmmhm,” Mingi sniffed, and popped a blueberry into his mouth, and then scrunched up his nose. He did not like them as much as strawberries or cherries. Helpfully, Seonghwa held out his hand, but he shook his head and swallowed. “Joongie hates when I waste fruits. But what do you think of me now?”

“I think...” Seonghwa trailed off, occupied with slathering a piece of bread in butter. “Sugar?”

“Yes, please.”

The witch sprinkled the bread with sugar and then handed it to Mingi, before starting on one for himself. He watched Mingi take a bite of his treat, and then with a sigh, he said, “I think you’re precious.”

Wooyoung would have retched at how soft his expression had gone, eyebrows drawn up, and eyes all big and practically pouring hearts down into his lap, where they gathered and spilled over because he simply couldn’t hold them all, whether they were in or out. It was no secret how fond Seonghwa was of them all. Mingi was just perhaps the most receptive to his affections (besides Yunho).

Mingi shivered under the warmth of the sun and, unsure of what else to do, took a page from Hongjoong’s book and flapped a hand at the witch. He laughed, murmured something about how he’d been around said vampire too long. The two ate well in a comfortable silence filled only by Mingi’s humming, and Seonghwa’s questions when it came to what they should eat next.

And when they’d finished their breakfast, and Seonghwa had put everything away in the basket once more, he patted his lap, and Mingi rested his head there. Feeling safe and sated with the witch’s slender fingers combing through his hair, he shut his eyes, and made a soft request.

“Will you read to me?”

So he did.

“‘Real isn’t how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become Real.’

“‘Does it hurt?’ asked the Rabbit.

“‘Sometimes,’ said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful,” Seonghwa’s nails scratched at his scalp comfortingly. As Mingi listened, although not truly comprehending each word, he nuzzled into his thigh.

Today, the witch had worn a midi dress, soft and lightweight, and printed with birds, thick boughs of grapes, and other fruits. It accentuated his body well, the waist fitted and hugging his body tightly, but the skirt flowing and loose. It was pretty, and Mingi liked it.

He trailed a finger over where Seonghwa’s hip bone poked from the fabric. Seonghwa inhaled sharply, but continued, voice slow and comforting, dripping in honey and the sweetness of spring, “‘It doesn’t happen all at once,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.’”

Mingi blinked up at the witch, owl-like, taking in the ethereal sight of the morning sun washing over the face of his lover. He supposed that was what they were. What they all were. They’d never spoken of it. Actions spoke louder than words at the current stage of their relationship. It was easier for them to not talk about it too, he supposed, because it’d mean talking about things he wasn’t ready to talk about.

“‘Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real, you can‘t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.’”

“Mars...” Mingi whispered, a word, a name, that shivered in the chill of the light breeze. “Are you Real?”

Seonghwa closed the book and set it aside, atop the basket. He tilted his head down to stare at Mingi, and cooed at him like he was a child. “I am. Because of you, and the others. But that isn’t what you wanted to ask me.”

Right. Seonghwa always knew. He still didn’t mind very much; it kept him focused. “Will you tell me your name?”

A pause. Then, “You know my name.”

He did, that was true. He’d heard it from San, or perhaps it had been Hongjoong, one night when he snuck over against his mother’s wishes. But overhearing a name just was not the same. San and Wooyoung told him their names when they first met, while Yeosang had been a little more hesitant, but once Yeosang did, then so did Yunho, and then Hongjoong. But not Seonghwa. And he couldn’t understand it. The others always called Seonghwa ‘Mars’, when he was around, which he understood, but it still hurt when he thought about it too much.

Slowly, thoughtfully, Mingi said, “But you never told me. I told you my name even when you knew it already from Yeosang. It’s different.”

“Hm.” Was all he got in response. “Lay down.”

He obeyed and did so with a pout. Seonghwa fell beside him, chin propped up on one hand. His other hand lifted, and his fingertips brushed strands of Mingi’s hair behind his ear.

“You’re beautiful, little one.” His voice was loving and soft, and then he leaned down and pressed his lips against Mingi’s once. “My pretty little fairy.”

Mingi turned slightly, and licked his lips. “Kiss me, Mars. Please,” He begged, voice cracking and rising in pitch in a way that San would have laughed at were he here. But he wasn’t, and Seonghwa did not laugh either.

Seonghwa conceded and kissed him deeply, lips moving lazily against his own. It was soft and delicate, like butterfly wings brushing against his lips. The taste on the witch’s tongue was sweet, flavoured with the cream, berries, and honey-sweetened treats they’d eaten, and it lingered, encompassing him, even after they paused, and settled for eskimo kisses while they caught their breath.

The witch had always kissed Mingi the way he’d always wanted to be kissed, like no one had ever kissed him. Where San and Wooyoung were eager and full of teeth, Seonghwa was slow and used his tongue with skill. Where Hongjoong bit and drew blood more than kissed, and Yeosang teased and made him want to cry out of frustration, Seonghwa nipped carefully and only teased enough to draw a whimper, before he gave the fairy what he wanted. And where Yunho playfully fought him for the upper hand, and giggled into his mouth more than anything, Seonghwa sought union, rather than victory, sought the closeness, the sharing of breath, the becoming one.

Mingi wished he could feel as he did now at all times, especially the times his mother made it harder for him to accept his existence. Many nights at his home were spent dreaming of his lovers, but above all, Seonghwa, for they shared a connection different from what they each had with the others. He’d dream of these moments, when his shaking hands were held tight in the witch’s firm grasp, and he could sink, collapsing, into the cavity of his chest, where the pool that was his love rested.

One last kiss, and Seonghwa moved to settle between his spread legs. “What do you want, my love?” He pushed Mingi’s dress up about his waist, and his thumbs stroked at his inner thighs. The touch made him quiver, and he covered his face with his hands. “Talk to me. Tell me what you want, Mingi.”

A soft cry fell from Mingi’s lips and he squirmed, too overwhelmed to speak. Of course, this was a part of their time. No one knew how to be as loving, as gentle, as caring as Seonghwa did. He had that special touch. The kind of touch that took could take him apart at the seams, break him, and then put him back together again, stuffing him full of love and light. The kind of touch that was freeing.

With him, he felt right.

“I,” Mingi cried, tilting his head back against the blanket and lifting his hips. “I want your love. I want you to love me.”

“Oh, pretty baby.” Seonghwa spread his legs apart further, and it stung, the stretch, but he didn’t mind. “I do love you. I love you so, so much.”

“Love me, love me, please,” He begged, and reached for the witch, “Need you.”

His fingers wrapped around Seonghwa’s wrist, and pulled it towards his lips. Seonghwa was patient, letting him suckle at his fingers. “You’re okay, Mingi. I’m here. I’m here.” The witch’s free hand brushed against his lower tummy, and then wrapped around his chubbing cock, just holding.

Mingi whined high and loud around his fingers, and squeezed the witch’s wrist tighter. Finally, he let Seonghwa’s fingers go, and rubbed at his eyes with his fists. “Tell me. If you trust me, tell me, M-Mars,” He blubbered. “Please?”

Seonghwa lifted his hips, bringing them to rest on his lap. There was a long stretch of silence where the witch simply stroked his skin, soothing him, and then reached into the basket he’d brought for a bottle of lube.

“My name is Seonghwa,” He whispered, “Say my name, darling.”

Instead, Mingi sobbed, relieved, and then keened as Seonghwa pressed two fingers into him right away. Then it came, a wet, trembling litany of, “ _Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Seonghwa_.”

“Good boy,” He praised, voice cooing and lovely. It made him feel a strange sort of pride to have Mingi, someone so big and, though he rarely used it, strong, beneath him like this; falling apart, open and unguarded. “Now, how about you tell me what I want to hear, huh?”

But Mingi refused. He needed time, just a little more. It scared him, the idea of admitting something so intimate, so true and raw when he feared that this, all of it, Seonghwa and Hongjoong, Yunho, Yeosang, San, and Wooyoung, the house he had come to call his real home, would not last. “I can’t.” And he felt horrible for it, unable to keep himself from sobbing harder.

Seonghwa knew this now. So he pulled his fingers out, and lifted up his dress. “I know,” He murmured, wrapping a hand around his cock and pushing into him. As Mingi cried, he shushed him gently, leaning over him, caging him in as he filled him so completely. “I know, I know.”

He held the fairy close, and Mingi gasped against his throat, trembling, and mouthed at the skin desperately.

“Ah, Mars... Seonghwa—” Mingi writhed and moaned beneath him, clinging and clawing, wanting the witch to be impossibly closer. He fucked into him easily, breaking him down even further, until he started to speak, verbalizing the fears and needs Seonghwa knew he’d been hiding, “Need you. All of you... I-I’m so scared.”

“You don’t need to be scared any longer, little one. I’m here. We’re all here,” He said against the shell of his ear, it tickled and made his fairy giggle, a precious thing that sounded like sparkles, somehow, before he started to cry again. “Don’t be scared. We’re your home. We won’t let you go.”

“N-never? Not even Yeosang?” 

Seonghwa kissed him more like Hongjoong than himself. “Never,” He promised, “And not even Yeosang-ah. You’re one of us now. Your body wouldn’t be in our beds otherwise.” His nails dug crescents into Mingi’s hips, “You don’t have to tell me now, or tomorrow, or even a week from now. I know that you do. But when you’re ready, when you’re not scared, promise me that you will tell me, like I’ve told you.”

His words seemed to calm Mingi significantly. “I p-promise, I promise.” He nodded a few times, then buried his face in Seonghwa’s neck, and choked out a moan into his skin.

“You’re so good, Mingi.” Seonghwa pressed soft kisses on his forehead, and across his cheeks, nose, and lips. “You’re so precious to me, do you know that?”

Out of all his boys, Mingi often had the most trouble knowing how people felt about him. He liked being on their minds; he practically glowed when any of them mentioned that they’d been thinking about him. He adored giving and receiving affection, and most of them playfully brushed it off, not because they didn’t want it, but just because it was just how they were, and sometimes, he didn’t understand that. He’d pout and fret, and then he’d get to thinking that they didn’t really care for him, which wasn’t true.

In a home where they talked little, preferring to show how much they cared through the things they did, they all often forgot how important it was to talk at times. Yeosang and Wooyoung had the sort of connection where they never had to speak to one another; if one was angry, the other knew why, if one was cold, then it was likely the other was too. San had a similar connection with Wooyoung. Yunho was in tune with them all in his own way, a way that had little requirement for much talking.

Then he and Hongjoong had a strange relationship, primarily built on their mutual unwillingness to accept the fact that they loved each other, regardless of the fact that they’d been together for more than seven years now — “The slowburn is unreal with you two,” Yeosang had said once. But he and the vampire understood each other despite that, and were slowly bulldozing their bullshit.

It wasn’t until Mingi had come into their lives that they realized that they needed to change. While his love language was primarily physical, he needed verbal reassurance, to be told that he was important, and cared for, and loved; much like a child, really. But Seonghwa didn’t mind, none of them did. The change was refreshing.

So even as Mingi clung to him like his life depended on it, crying and moaning into his neck, struggling to get all the affection he so desperately needed in between having the life fucked out of him, the witch continued to whisper lovingly to him, “Mingi, I love you. Do you know how perfect you are to me, to us? We all love you so, so much. You’re ours, hm? Our Mingi. You take us all so well, pretty... make us so proud of you.”

“Seonghwa,” The fairy whimpered, feeling overwhelmed. Seonghwa was all around him, and he was warm, and so, so good. His words reached deep within him and made him want to hide, delighted as he was that they were being spoken. Mingi felt exposed, vulnerable. Seonghwa always had a way of doing that to him.

He covered his face with one arm in an attempt to muffle his sobs, and hide his face because he knew he didn‘t look as pretty as Seonghwa insisted. And Seonghwa didn’t try to stop him; he simply kissed his arm and his fingers, lips smooth and surprising cool against his skin.

“Look at me, princess. Please. I want to see your face. You’re so beautiful,” The witch murmured in between pleasure-ridden moans. Mingi shook his head, hands tightening into fists. He felt so full, and Seonghwa was doing everything in his power to keep up his passionate slow paced thrusts, he could tell.

“G-gotta... wanna tell you somethin’.” Mingi dropped his arm and held onto the back of Seonghwa’s neck, fingers pressing in deep. The witch stilled, and he was almost relieved to have the chance for his body to come back. All over, he felt tingly, and his skin buzzed, the aftershocks of pleasure still running through him.

Seonghwa kissed him once, then again. “Talk to me. I’m listening.” Cruelly, in Mingi’s mind at least, he rocked his hips forward, not pulling out or pushing in, but keeping him filled, and moving enough to make his words jumble, and his mind go hazy.

He stuttered, eyes rolling up and then squeezing shut. Fingers flicked at his nipples, pinching and rolling them through the fabric of his dress, and sending heat straight down to his aching cock. Part of him thought he could cum just like this, untouched. Seonghwa knew that he could.

Mingi’s thighs clamped tight around Seonghwa’s thin waist, and he gasped, fumbling to push out the man’s name as he came. And Seonghwa kept fucking him, sending electric shockwaves throughout his body. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ — Hwa!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Seonghwa said to him over and over, hands holding on tight to his hips to keep him from squirming away when the oversensitivity became too much. “You’re doing so well, Minmin. Just let me cum, yeah? Can you hold out for me, Mingi?”

Sobbing, Mingi nodded his head, though he blubbered out, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—”

Seonghwa chuckled, and shook his head, voice teasing. “Ah, Minmin, of course you can. Did our Hongjoongie teach you to dream small, hm?”

“Uh-uh, m’sorry!” A miserable moan fell from Mingi’s open mouth, and he writhed, pushing at the witch’s abdomen weakly. “Hurry, Mars, please—”

Finally, Seonghwa pulled out, and climbed up Mingi’s body until his cock hovered above his mouth. “Open, please,” He said, nearly whined, fisting at his length desperately. Panting, Mingi parted his lips, and opened his mouth, tongue lolling out.

Seonghwa cursed and bit down on his lip, his free hand reaching out to stroke the fairy’s hair. “Good boy. So good for me. So, so good for me.”

“Mars— Seonghwa,” Mingi panted, “Want you to cum in my mouth. Want to taste you, want you in me, please. Please, Hwa, d-don’t you wanna see your precious fairy all messy with your cum?” 

“Oh my god,” The witch groaned lowly, cum beading and falling onto Mingi’s tongue in thick strings. Some spattered on Mingi’s lips and chin, and finally, sated, he sighed and shuffled back on his knees. “Y-you,” He hummed and kissed the fairy, “need to stop spending so much time with Yeosang. Talking like that— Come on, share.”

Mingi giggled and stuck his tongue out, eager to obey, and Seonghwa leaned down to suck Mingi’s cum-coated tongue into his mouth. Worn out, Mingi laid there limp, and let the older man do as he pleased. The sucking sounds were obscene, and the witch didn’t show any signs of letting up, long after his cum was gone. Eventually, spit dripped down the corners of his lips, and he whined, words slurring, “Seonghwaaaaa, s’all gone.”

“Sorry,” Seonghwa sat back panting, spit smeared across his lips and chin. “You’re just so pretty. Couldn’t help myself.”

“You’re gross,” He whined even though he didn’t mean it. “Do you do that to all of us?” Seonghwa laughed at him and kissed his nose before he got up, smoothing his dress down.

“No, just you. You’re so special, and my mouth only wants your tongue in it.” The witch grabbed both of his hands and tugged the fairy up to his feet. “Come on, baby, we’ve gotta get home now, don’t we? Everyone’s probably up now. And I think Hongjoong wanted to feed from you today.”

The trip back home was slow because, as they found, Mingi was not very good at rowing. But it was nice all the same, and they talked about nothing in particular, just whatever came to mind. Seonghwa did most of the talking while Mingi settled for just watching him, enraptured, and not fully taking in each and every word. Occasionally, Seonghwa would blush and stumble over his words, and sheepishly insist that he not look at him like that. 

Mingi was not quite ready to tell Seonghwa what he wanted to hear, what he knew was true, but perhaps, he thought, in time he would be. For now, he settled with squeezing into the witch’s lap when they had finally docked, and hugging him. Seonghwa’s arms squeezed around him and his nose nuzzled against his temple.

“Thank you for having me, Seonghwa,” He whispered. “Please have me again.”


End file.
